Snips and Snails
by millie-mione
Summary: Harry has left and died in the war, and Petunia sits alone after hearing the news, having only her tormented mind to keep her company.


Petunia Dursley sat wide-awake in her living room thinking of Harry and the way she treated him over the years. Just remembering his face and those eyes made her miss both him and Lily, though she couldn't put her finger on why. Neither of them had been a picnic to live with, though in some sense she could logically compare her current feelings for them to an awkward sort of warmth one felt for a cheeky puppy that'd recently eaten his or her slippers and returned them.

Ooh, yuck! How could something that disgusting cross her mind? She hated dogs, yet they were the most fascinating of creatures. They were mainly inconsiderate of your space, yet arrived issuing nothing but love, trust, and empathy.

This thought reminded her of the morning she found Harry and that awful letter on her doorstop. He looked at her with innocent wonder as if he were curious about her, unlike her son whose eyes only displayed unwavering demand and expectation. Of course, he didn't know her, but he had something else about him…something you could call maybe a quiet peace?

Touching him for the first time lent her a small sense of freedom in that she didn't have to pretend to be the iron clad wife of the formidable Vernon Dursley. She was merely a woman holding a baby. Needless to say, that feeling didn't last very long. For seconds later Vernon came down holding a screaming Dudley, and that as they say, was back to the drawing board.

" It's my sister," she said with a distasteful expression, " she's gone and left her brat on us."

" Well, write her back and let her know that we'll not have it. Our house is full enough already. We're not the bloody soup line," he complained heading for the back door and off to work without so much as a kiss goodbye. She knew he was angry with her ignoring Dudley as she had, but she knew it wasn't her fault; though, this nagging voice in her mind told her it was. Naturally, there was only one thing to do, and she'd better do it fast. Petunia waited ten more minutes and phoned her husband, offering him the excuse that it was the noble thing for them to do. She also reminded him of Grunnings' annual good neighbor award and of how taking on a charitable task like this would help Vernon's image in the eyes of his supervisors and supporters in the election.

" Now, listen. You're here only because your uncle is letting you be here. So you behave yourself until I figure out what else to do with you. For starters, let's sit you down to breakfast next to your cousin Dudley," Petunia cooed, sitting Harry down and wincing after Dudley began pulling her hair viciously.

Had she not feared repercussions from her husband she'd have slapped that little wretch senseless. Oh, what was she saying? She loved her baby. He was her pride and joy. After all, he and his daddy were the main reason she got up in the morning.

She set their porridge in front of them and began serving Dudley, noticing the way he stared at Harry the whole time with an angry and unappreciative look. Had Petunia not convinced herself that she was seeing things, she'd have quickly sworn that her son meant Lily's boy harm and meant to carry out this harm at any given second. Oh, there she was again, thinking the worst.

Her trip down memory lane faded when Vernon came down to open the refrigerator and get a beer. Drinking seemed to be all he was good at doing these last few days since Dudley failed to get into Wellshire College's Management program. He'd had his heart set on his son following in his footsteps, but Dudley's scores were so piss worthy that even the city denied him internship for labor training.

He didn't acknowledge her, and she was glad. She wanted time alone to think. In truth, the way she felt now, she could've used the rest of her miserable life to be alone to think.

How could the one thing she hated be the only real thing in her life that didn't scream of failure or disappointing mundanity? Christ! She could tear out her own eyes for being so blind. She hadn't lived these past years, she'd been rehearsing for the ultimate human letdown, and that was loneliness. Yes, Vernon would be there, and Dudley would too of course, but none of the appreciation or the need for the things she did for them that made her purpose essential. No, she'd spend the rest of her days being the ultimate Stepford Wife set on auto pilot.

After deciding that she would only brood a few moments longer before going to bed, Petunia recalled the words of a Buddhist friend she knew in college. He told her that we chose our life circumstances. He offered her the example in which he'd compared his alcoholic mother to his grandmother who ended up raising him after his mum killed herself in a car crash after drinking too much. He said that he chose to be born to his mother, but that he chose to be raised by his grandmother.

There was only one true word that could sum up all that she felt over the past few ours, and that was need. Lily needed her as a big sister, and Harry had chosen her to be his 'mother.' Though it didn't come in the sense of her receiving any of the benefits, it was unconditional love they were giving her all the same. It took her this long to see that in her case it was more blessed to give than to receive.

Still, she'd made her bed, and now it was time for her to lie in it. Resigned to her fate, she rose from the sofa and jumped in start as something raced up to the back door and made a loud thud. She looked up and saw that it was Mrs. Haversham of Number Six's new puppy, Danny. He shook his head and looked up at her wagging his tail, and she opened the back door, removed her right slipper, and threw it to him before she closed the door behind her and headed back up to bed.


End file.
